Stories and Riddles

I wrote this set of songs in early 2011. Someday I'll make proper recordings, but until then I hope you'll enjoy these demos:

(Riddle texts from The Exeter Book. The Road was recorded live at the Stone with Geremy Schulick, Brad Balliett, Doug Balliett, Majel Connery and Alison Fletcher.)

Seven Sons

My friends Jordan and Charlotte singing Juniper!

if all the leaves on all the trees were tonguesthat spoke in rhymeswhere every line'sa sturdy ladder rungand you climbed and climbed foreveryou would still not reach the measureof my seven sons

the oldest one can sing and play the lyrea perfect breezethat he can teasefrom hair or piano wireand when he sang at eventideit seemed his voice could multiplyinto a choir

where they disappeared to, no one knowshere comes a daughter and away she goes

and next the twins that grew as tall as pinesthey build our homefrom honeycomband dug our almond minesso skilled their hands that they could makewhatever we did undertakeof their design

and after them we had our middle childhe speaks no wordsexcept to birdsand deer and crocodileshe'd go with them for weeks on endand when at last came back againhe'd only smile

suns too hot and the moons too coldhere comes a daughter and away she goes

the next one always wears a flower crowna single glanceand what he plantswill leap up from the groundand even in December you cansee the green and tender blossomsall around

number six an endless tale could tellin prose or verseall unrehearsedin sonnets lays and villanellesand all who heard him speak would sitenraptured at his feet until hebroke the spell

August wilts and November blowshere comes a daughter and away she goes

the seventh son was still just but a babehe loved them all'ere he could crawland never was afraidnot even when they strapped him to a horseand whispered in his ear beforethey rode away

where they disappeared to, no one knows'cept for the devil who won't disclosethat on yon mountain, seven crowswait for their sister and away she goes

Riddle No. 1

A wave over the wave,a weird thing I sawthorough wrought and wonderfully ornatea wonder on a wave:water become bone

Faithful John

my master has a perfect horse in the countrysideshe's as red as Mars, and clever, and a joy to ridetomorrow I'm to fetch her, and it will be my master's greatest prideto be borne upon the back of her when he goes to meet his bride

but I must shoot it dead at dawnI must shoot it deadI must shoot it dead at dawnfor I am Faithful JohnI am Faithful John

gold, silver, sulphur, pitchwoven tight and finely stitcheddeliver by a tailor who asked nothing more in paymentno more handsome raiment could be in a bridegrooms wish

but I must throw it in the firebefore he tries it onI must throw it in the firefor I am Faithful JohnI am Faithful John

what an honor and a curseit is to knowthat the bride will soon grow faintbeneath the mistletoewhen she falls I must be thereand to a chamber take herand I know that she'll be safer --if I take off all her clothes

my master then will have no choicebut to hear the gallows in my voiceso all I hope is when I'm gonemore clearly he will hear my song:I must do you, lord, this wrongI must do you, lord, this wrongI must do you, lord, this wrongfor I am Faithful JohnI am Faithful JohnI am Faithful John oh lordI am Faithful John

Riddle No. 2

I am fire-freightedand I flirt with windand my limbs are lightly freightedand my many arms wrapped in flameyou read meand I carry you cross waterand I strain to flyin the spring, a grove leaf-bearingand in fall a glowing ember

hand to hand around the hallfriend to friend, I'm kissed by allI drink as deep as I am tall:say what I am

The Road

I will open the road before herand close the road behind herand raise the hills to hold herand shade them all with poplarsand every night I'll ring the stars like bells for to remind heras I open the road before herand close the road behind

I will open wide the pasturesI will still the many watersI will multiply the orchardsand fill the trees with blackbirdsand every day they'll sing the summer song of what's inside heras I open the road before herand close the road behind

I will cross the ever-underI will harp asleep the creatureI will sing across the riverI will sooth the shades who sufferand every night I shift my ring from one hand to anotherbut I will not hold my loverI will not hold my love

Juniper

My mother she killed memy father he ate memy sister collected my bonesshe wrapped them in linen and tied them with silkand buried me under a garden stone

Now I can fly, now I can singsomeday I'll go find my murdererbut first a purse for my father and shoes for my sisterand a song for the juniper

As for mothers, I had anothershe died the day I was bornso happy to see me her heart burst in twoand her laughter still keeps me warm

She'd gone and prayed, each night and dayout beneath the juniperand waited and waited and waited and waitedfor something to grow up inside of her

how longinside of herhow longinside of her

The fig shall bear a colored flowerand time's mid-point a sceptereach good thing will be made betterand everything bitter more sour